Slam!
by Regency
Summary: We are Bartlet Women who will not be taken from those men that love us and God forbid, have died to protect us. On Perm. Hiatus.
1. Slam!

Author: Regency  
  
Title: Slam!  
  
Category: Angst/Violence/Drama  
  
Pairing: Liz/Dean(OFC); Ellie/Nick(OFC); Jed/Abbey; Charlie/Zoey  
  
Season/Spoilers: No season; puts one in the mind of "In The Shadow of Two Gunmen."  
  
Summary: We are Bartlet women who will not be taken from those men that love us and God forbid, have died to protect us.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron's POV  
  
Slam! is the sound of a body hitting a hard surface. Slam! is the sound that you, the protector haven't done your job and protected the protectee. Slam!!! is the sound of about ten bodies hitting the pavement.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gina's POV  
  
Slam! is the sound I dread. Slam! is the sound I'll hear in my dreams for the rest of my days. Slam!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Zoey's POV  
  
It's been a good day for us. A good week, hell, you could get happy and say a good month. Things are wonderful. There's peace in-family. Always a good sign.  
  
Charlie and I just announced our engagement at the same time as Ellie to Nick Vassar, a fellow medical resident at Johns Hopkins. Dad's ecstatic for us, but a duely sad about his last two baby birds leaving the nest. Liz, Annie, and Dean, Liz's husband came to visit. Dad's feeling better after that. He's knows we'll always return to the nest.  
  
He invited us (the whole family) to a thing. Some impromptu concert at the Newseum. Yep, the same place the shooting occured. We all agreed to go. I mean, that feels like a million years ago. And, really, what are the odds of that happening again? Two-in-a-million? Try one-in-ten.  
  
We should have had to go twenty times for this.  
  
We only went twice...So much for your one-in-ten.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER  
  
Zoey's POV  
  
It was a great concert. The words the musician sang touched us greatly. Charlie and I had mutually and without argument decided to ask them to play at our wedding in December. Yep, we came up with a date too. It's surprising what you can accomplish with a bit of give and take.  
  
We were just leaving the building, the same as last time. Mom and dad were first, flanked by both of their details. I was behind them with Charlie, Ellie was behind us with Nick, and Liz, Dean, and Annie were behind them.  
  
We waved as we passed the ropeline, they love us. These are the people my father keeps coming to see. Not those full of hate who attended last time, but those who smile and yell their adoration of him. An adoration and respect he commands, demands of all those who serve at his pleasure.  
  
I feel the hairs on my neck stand. I turn my head towards that building. That same building and realize I'm standing in the exact same place as before. I try to shake it off as deja vu, but the feeling of dread refuses to leave. Through the glint of a flashbulb, I see, just for a moment, a face in the window. That same window. And in those eyes I see that same the hatred I remember that act of so long ago reflecting. I don't have to see the gun to know there is one.  
  
I don't know if it was me or one of the agents, but I hear someone yell, "GUN!" I recognize the frenzy for life immediately. No one has to be told twice. We've been here before.I instinctively look to my parents. Four different agents on each side dive for their respective charges, but they're too slow. Time's too slow. I zero in on my father, the President.  
  
He doesn't duck or run for cover. He does what's been instinct to him for over thirty four years. He pulls my mother to his body and shields her as best he can from what I'm sure will be carnage. It is.  
  
My perspective changes as the shots begin and I feel Charlie tuck me into his body and pull me to the ground. I can just make out Ellie's auburn hair from under Nick's chin, where he holds her head protectively. Annie and Liz huddle down in a pile covered by Dean.  
  
Charlie holds me so tightly, breathing is becoming quite difficult. I look back to my father, he's still covering my mother. I've never seen her cling to him so tightly. I've never seen any of us cling to any men this way, but these are not just any men. These are our men. The men we love, our souls mates. An we will hold on as tight as is necessary to keep them with us, even if only for one more moment.  
  
That moment is now. 


	2. Lovers Down

Slam! 2 "Lover Down"  
  
Disclaimer: No one, except for the original characters which are indicated in part one are mine. All known characters are that of Aaron Sorkin.   
  
See part 1.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Zoe's POV  
  
The shooting finally stops. Finally. I realize that Charlie's grip on me has loosened slightly and that he's more like a dead...weight on my back.  
  
I look around, the silence is deafening. My mother is still gripping my father's lapels in her fists, but I see her grip loosening as an expression of terror comes over her face. I can't watch anymore and turn my eyes towards my sisters.  
  
I hear them call out to their protectors, their human shields and receive no reply for their efforts. The need to hear his voice overpowers me and I say his name and pray for some sort of answer. None comes.  
  
I hear the trooping footsteps of the Secret Service. As always, it seems, they're too late to be effective.  
  
They pull him away to get to me. I already know they're being too rough.  
  
"Stop! He's hurt." I can't explain how I know that, but I do. And he is. They rolled him onto his back, directly onto the wound. Talk about being single-minded.  
  
They're trying to make me leave, make us leave. It won't work. We won't leave. I see my mother immediately begin to try and tend to my father's what seem to be inumerable injuries. There's so much blood and my mother's barely holding it together. She pulls off her pale peach blazer to stop the bleeding, but she doesn't know which wound to press it to. I know Dr. mode won't come for her now. She too far gone. The agents don't even register.  
  
Ellie's in the same predicament. She pulled of her Harvard Medical sweatshirt and pressed it to the wound on the back of his neck, but there are still wounds on lower bvack and into his side. She gently turns him over to the recovery position and rests his head on her lap. The Secret Service agents try to tell her to come with them. That it's their job to secure her, but she's done fighting, being secured, now she's mourning.  
  
Liz and Annie have him turned on his side too. They're still trying to pull them away, but they won't go. Liz gently holds Dean in her arms along with Annie and they collectively rock back and forth. There was never time to say goodbye, not even now.  
  
I look down to the love of my life and see him looking back at me with such a peaceful, loving expression on his face. His eyes are so clear, there are no reservations, worries, just clear. In a painful, stilted voice, he asks me, "Do you...[cough]..Zoey Patric...ia Bartlet...love[cough] me...Charl..es Young, till death do us p[cough]art?" I smile and blink back tears. I need to remember his face now more than ever.  
  
"I, Zoey Patricia Bartlet do love you, Charles Young...[swallow]...till death do us part and beyond the moment that it does." He smiles. I will always love his smile. "Do you..." My voice cracks here. "Charles Young...love me, Zoey Patricia Bartlet, till death[swallow] do us part and beyond the moment that it does?" His smile widens, if that's at all possible.   
  
"I, Charles Young love you Zoey...[cough][cough][cough]...undyingly. And I will love you beyond my days in this world or in the next...[swallow] always." I lean down and kiss him gently on the lips. I pretend not to taste the blood. It will haunt me later on.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Stella McMyers POV(OFC)  
  
Where are the damn ambulances? I know there's no hope for this family, but there are people here who can still be saved if help gets here in time.  
  
I call them this family to distance them, make them not who they are, make them not the most powerful family in the world.  
  
The youngest one, Zoe, shares sacred vows with her fiance, Charlie. A few were surprized when they got back together and engaged to boot, but those who really knew them, always knew that all of their roads led back to each other. They just had to find the way. They did and now this.  
  
The oldest girl, Elizabeth, sits holding her daughter and husband and rocking them silently. Tears won't come. It's too late for that. Now is just silence.  
  
The middle girl, Eleanor, holds her fiance's head in her lap and strokes his hair without so much as a sound. Her eyes are closed almost like if she doesn't open her eyes, she'll be back in her Georgetown apartment playing chess in front of the fireplace with her man. If only it were that simple to turn back time.  
  
I can't help, but be drawn to the First Lady. The Secret Service has given up on her and stationed themselves around her to the four winds. Her tears are the only ones being shed, but they are the most lonely. The President is held close to her breast, her face is buried in his hair. She is lost to us. They both are.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	3. Dead Men and Sunless Days

Slam! 3 "Dead Men and Sunnless Days"  
  
See part 1 & 2. Character Death.  
  
Ellie's POV  
  
It was all so great, so perfect. We were all so goddamned happy. Mom and dad were more in love than ever, Zoey and I were engaged to marry the loves of our lives, and Liz and co. came to visit. We were a family again.  
  
Then, we came back to this place and tried our good fortune. Karma does not like to be taunted.  
  
I sit here, on the hard pavement, angry at God, fate, myself. Surprisingly, no blame goes towards my father. He'd done something right for a change. To me, he is blameless. Besides, how do you blame a dead man? Dead men. There's so many of them here tonight.  
  
The Secret Service tried to take us away, secure us. We wouldn't leave. What could they save us from now? We've just lost everything. I can think it so calmly, because I haven't opened my eyes since he stopped breathing. I haven't seen the world or another living face since, his pulse no longer beat beneath my fingertips. I only touch his ahir, because it's still as soft and if I really imagine, I can feel the wamrth of the fireplace in front of me and hear the History Channel playing in the background. Even though we've had our disagreements, we both share a great love of history. Shared a great love of history. It's only me now.  
  
I hear my mother's unitelligable mutterings and know she would have been far better off having been killed as well. Maybe we all would have. Some would say we have our whole lives ahead of us, why wish it all over for some guys. These aren't just any guys. These are...were our guys.   
  
I'm an unwed widow and it hurts. It hurts so much. I never even got the benefit of marrying him, giving him the children we talked about. But as I hear my mother, I wonder if maybe that's best. Losing before I got the chance to gain. I know it's not. It's like not buying food because it's going to be gone anyway. It doesn't work, you still need it. We still need them.  
  
Zoey was admittedly closer to the altar than me as her little display says. That is her goodbye their farewell. Her eyes are bleary, but she smiles and kisses him gently...goodbye. He's gone and her smile fades. She strokes his face, trying to remember everything for the last time. These moments will have to last each of us the rest of our lives.  
  
Liz has stopped rocking them, now they're just sitting there, staring off into the distance. We're all trying contemplate, trying to invision life without these undeniably bright and brilliant men. I can truly say that the sun will never shine as bright again. If it ever shines again at all. Something that is coming greatly into question.  
  
I opened my eyes...it's night. For us, it always will be. Sunless days and never-ending nights. And I am a widow, never married, but still left behind. 


	4. Quality of Life

Enjoy!  
  
-Regency  
  
Slam! 4 : " Quality of Life"  
  
See part 1.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ellie's POV  
  
This is my hill, no our hill. Before, we'd sit out here on certain nights,maybe even make love under the stars. This was our place.  
  
We'd planned to buy this place ourselves. We didn't want it as a gift, but as a reward for the hard work we'd done to get wherever we were. We were so excited. I was getting everything I wanted and so much more, it seemed.  
  
I come back here often. Not that I can help it, I do live here. I bought this place after Rosslyn2. The second Rosslyn. I used this place to recover, to heal. I'll never fully heal, never really be who I was again. It's possible that none of us will ever be. How can we?  
  
What we lost that day was great. But we also found something nearly as great. Each other. We've been family for years and yet we couldn't have been more distant strangers if we'd been from different families.  
  
We're only starting to be normal again. Whatever normal is. We congregate to my home now, and less to Manchester. It just seems fitting that we call a new place home after this happened. We're new people, not necessarily better ones, but definitely new more fragile people.  
  
I push myself up from the ground and make my way back over to the house. I can't help, but smile as Zoey runs around after Charlotte Abigail, her daughter.  
  
She has been my baby sister's saving grace. It's a wonder to a dozen doctors how my niece survived Rosslyn and its aftermath. It's a wonder to her mother and grandmother too.  
  
I smile at her as she sees me and runs to me with arms wide open. I pick her up and spin her around. She snuggles her head into my neck.  
  
"How ya doin', Charli Gail?" I can feel her smile. It's her father's and my father's smile.  
  
"I'm doin' fine, Auntie El'. How you doin' El train?" My smile becomes a grin at her assumed nickname for me.  
  
"I'm doin' fine too. Come on, I'd better give you back to your mom before she thinks I'm trying to steal you for myself." I'd never do that. She's the love of my sister's life, next to Charlie. Losing her would nearly destroy her.  
  
"Hey, you tryin' to steal my kid?" Zoey walks toward us. " And you. Are you tradin' me in for a better model?" Charli scrambles down from my arms and runs to her mom.  
  
"No way, mommy. The El' Train's already got a baby. She doesn't need to have me too." She's right. I've got my baby. Nicole Jocelyn. Nicci or Cece. She's upstairs with her father. Just thinking that gives me chills. The fact that he's here at all is another thing in this family that has amazed a dozen doctors. One gunshot wound to the side of the head. By all accounts he was dead on the scene, even mine. If I'd been thinking clearly I would've remembered that it had been a terribly cold night. He'd let me where his jacket, because I'd left mine in the White House. The cold slowed down his heartbeat and probably saved his life as he lay there on the sidewalk, in my arms.  
  
That's why I didn't feel his heartbeat. It had slowed down to a rate just above death. He was the point that would put a doctor and family on 'death watch.' I thought I was being hopeful, I thought he was really gone. The doctors thought that Nick was on the way out. They gave me 10% odds of his surviving with limited quality of life at best. He beat those odds down. That's why he fits in with us Bartlets so well. We always just barely beat those odds.  
  
I can hear the front screen door slam back to the porch wall. I've told everyone who would listen not to do that. It nicks the paint and drives me insane. Only one person has the nerve to it anyway. Nicholas. I turn towards him and decide to give him whatfor.  
  
"Nicholas Douglas Vassar! What have I told you time and time again about slamming my doors open?" I stand there with my best glower on my face, courtesy of my mother, and my hands on my hips, courtesy of my father. Who else?  
  
Damn him. He has the good grace to look chastized. And adorable. Jackass. He shuffles on the second to bottom step, toeing the grass meekly. What can I say?  
  
Feel my wrath, gorgeous.  
  
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" I don't expect much from here. He's already forgiven. I'm pretty sure he knows that too.  
  
"I love you very, much Eleanor." But he sure does know how to take care of the 'just in case.' I sigh.  
  
"I love you, too, jackass. Now get over here and kiss me like you mean it." You know, hubby's fast when it means something to him. Oh, and yeah, he means it.  
  
Oh, and one more thing: Quality of life...  
  
Unlimited, unfettered, and wonderful. 


	5. My Jack

Slam! 5:My Jackass  
  
See part 1. Warning: the term jack*** is used a lot.  
  
Zoey's POV  
  
There they go again. They're just like mom and dad. Don't you think Charlie, dear? I do and I know you agree, because you've learned better than to disagree with a Bartlet.  
  
Oh, good Lord, get a room. I slap a hand over Charli's eyes. I am not explaining why Ellie and Nick are making a snack out of each other to our daughter. Now if you'd like to, feel free. Yeah, I didn't think so.  
  
" Oh, get a room already. There are minors here." They separate and look at me with disgruntled expressessions. "Hey if you don't want to get told you'd better go. And shut up. I know it didn't rhyme.  
  
"Yo, Charlie, come get your kid. She needs a nap." Damn, never say nap in shouting-distance of a three year-old. And she's off. I saw that coming; I just should have stopped it.  
  
You swoop her up under your arm and carry her back in my direction.  
  
"Naptime." I can't help myself I have to taunt her a little bit.  
  
"Zoey." I shrug, guilessly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're being evil and bad." I flutter my eyelashes at you mock innocently.  
  
"Yeah. No, that's not working. Give it up;" I blow a raspberry at you. *Eyebrow* Yeah, um, I'm going down aren't I? Oh, yeah, I'm going down. What are you doing? Oh, crap. You just put Charli down and told her to go play with grandma. She'll be gone for hours now.  
  
"Oh, yeah, you're gonna get me aren't you?" You nod, slowly. You're coming towards me. I think...I'm gonna run...now. I take off towards the house. I'm somewhere between screaming and laughing. I know I'm not gonna get there, but it's the chase that counts. Your arms slide arund my waist and pull me off my feet. You're tickiling me. "Quit it!"  
  
"What were you saying? Were you saying that Charlie's the greatest cook in the entire world? Say it again, I didn't quite catch it the first time." I love to push your buttons.  
  
"That's because I didn't say it." The tickling intensifies. I can't breathe. Geez. All right! All right. " You are the greatest cook in the world."  
  
"And waht do you do?" Oh, I'm getting sizzy here. Fine, Charlie, you win.  
  
"I burn water."  
  
"What?" Oh, he's a funny man.  
  
"I burn water!!!" He like to humiliate me.  
  
"I know and I still can't feel my tongue." Jackass!  
  
"You're a jackass, you know that, don't you?" There's that smile. God, I love that smile.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm your jackass."Damn, he's right.  
  
"Yeah, but well...Shutup. You're still a jackass. A jackass that I love, my jackass. You jackass." There's that smile again. "And quit smiling." It gets bigger. " Jackass." 


	6. Pieces of Cake

Slam! 6: "Pieces of Cake"  
  
See part 1.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I walk the halls of my...our home in Manchester. I can't shake the nostalgia that threatens to tear me into pieces and devour me whole. There was so much before...nothing's changed. And yet so much has.  
  
These walls are home to the memories of our life...Our life together. We've raised three daughters, and a granddaughter here. We've gone from newlyweds to an old,um, middle-aged married couple in this house. We've held countless dinner parties in this house. We've grieved for lost loved ones...  
  
We've made love in this house. We conceived at least one of our girls here on the rug in front of the fireplace. Ellie loves that rug. I bet she'd never guess why.  
  
I trail my fingers over the frames and figurines on the mantle absently. If I'd been paying closer attention I'd have remembered that glass swan Jed gave me as a gift for our 32nd anniversary was right in the path of my wandering hands. And maybe I could have avoided the Earth-moving shattering sound it made as it was knocked off of its perch and onto the floor. The end result: A thousand tiny shards of glass swan spred willy-nilly around a small radius on the floor.  
  
My mouth hangs open at the loss of such a gift. I feel a great sob swell up inside of my chest.   
  
It's like a switch has been flicked. The room suddenly feels like a stranger's home. It's like that verse from that song by Dido:  
  
I don't want to call my friends  
  
They might wake me from this dream  
  
I can't leave this place  
  
And risk forgetting all that's been...  
  
I think I can feel my heart shatter into shards to mirror those on the floor. He would be so angry...He would be, but he won't be because he isn't here to get angry.  
  
These are the moments when his absence is so great, his fiction so real that I believe for moments at a time that he was just some too perfect fantasy. And I guess, he is...was. *sigh* Whatever. Is. Was. He will always be. He is my anytime and everytime. He is my always and forever. As I am his and together we are one perfect, beautiful being, one complete soul. That's how it should be. What I miss so much.  
  
The footsteps are so careful that I miss them completely. What I don't miss is the soft kiss someone presses into my hair. I turn arond and there he is...And he's looking damned pleased with himself. Jackass. God, I love him.  
  
I take a step towards him. He doesn't move, instead just rocks back and forth on his heels with his hands stuck deep into his pockets. Yeah, he's real pleased with himself. His eyes are sparkling. I take another step. I see he's losing the battle not the smile. I take another step closer to him. I could touch him right now. He moves closer to me. A little bit closer...  
  
We're face to face.  
  
"I could jump you right now." he says.  
  
"I could kill you right now." I say. He loses his battle for control of his mirth. Oh, his laugh, I love his laugh.  
  
"My thing's more fun." I laugh with him. I mean, how can I not? This mirrors that conversatoin of so long ago. The one we had before the censure, before my forfeiture of license, but after the diagnosis. That conversation long before the second Rosslyn, hell before the first one. Back when we were slightly arrogant and were still too stupid to see how fragile our hold on life and each other was. That was back then...We know better now.  
  
He looks so beautiful; eyes bright and full of adoration for me. Love only for me. He doesn't have to speak again for me to know this. He reaches up and rests his hand against my cheek. His eyes are locked with mine. I know I'm all he sees.  
  
"I've missed you so much, Abigail, sweetheart." God, I've missed him too. It's like he's reading my very soul.  
  
"I've missed you too, Jed. So much. I can't tell you how much."  
  
"You don't have to. I know." With theses words, those shards of crystal on the floor are irrelevant and the pieces of my heart slide back together in their never-ending pattern.  
  
Everytime he goes away, I am shattered like that broken swan on the floor. But when he returns to me whole and happy to be home I am made new again.  
  
As his arms encompass me, my head rests on his chest, under his chin and I wish there was some way, any way to tell him how I feel without him. And how much better I am with him and for his presence in my life.  
  
"Everytime you go away...some part of me, some deep, hidden part of me shatters like a reflection on broken glass. It's the most intense... painful--I... can't really explain it. It just really hurts." Way to be articulate, Abigail.   
  
He has something to say. " Let me try. The leaving is the hard part. Coming home, well, sweetknees, it's cake. Many pieces of luscious, red-velvet cake." Wow, he's good. He summed up my way over-taxed emotions, used a bad cliche, and made me hungry in the same statement. With what shall we reward such a glowing accomplishment?  
  
"You want cake don't you? Red velvet cake to be specific?" He gives me an appalled look. Yeah, that's not working, cutie.  
  
"Me? Abbey, you know I'm not supposed to have any cake, even if it is red velvet. What's gotten into you?" He did not just make me the bad guy here.  
  
"Hey, if you don't want the cake, I'll eat it. You're right, you shouldn't be eating cake; especially red-velvet cake, anyway. More for me." I'm already on the way to the kitchen.  
  
"Uh uh, leave my cake alone." I stop and turn to look at him. He's dreadfully protective of his family, but dangerously protective of his cake.  
  
Oh, yeah, I'm gonna eat him up like so many pieces of cake. Red velvet cake, of course. Nothing else is worthy of the former Commander-in-Chief of my country and the current one of my heart. Besides, I can have my cake and eat it too. He can only watch and wait. And maybe I'll let him lick the 'icing' off my fingers.  
  
Yes, Jed, I am going to devour you like you scarfed down that cake in the fridge. You think I don't know, but you are the one who has no idea.  
  
Ha, it's nothing, but cake, babe. So many pieces of cake. 


End file.
